


Prelude of the Winds

by UsagiSquared



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, BASICALLY it just shares world rules with Reiyoku/A Matter of the Soul haha, Friendship, Gilag is just more prominently featured, Other Barians are here, Post-Canon, Sexswapped Reincarnation ahoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-14 21:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14144868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UsagiSquared/pseuds/UsagiSquared
Summary: It was said that his spirit, unable to cope with the grief of his own crime, forever haunted the arena thereafter...Whatever happened to his fated reincarnations was unknown.(But then one day in the halls of the school, a certain scarlet barian spied gold hair with red tips...)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the start of the Zexal Plotline that accompanies Reiyoku-or as many know it in AU Format, 'A Matter of the Soul'. I'm currently undecided on whether I'll publish later entries of this plotline as if AMotS is the canon involved or not; when it becomes relevant, I'll note any differences however. Until then-what IS absolutely different from AMotS is that Dueling will continue to be the focus within the Zexal Plotline, as Reiyoku proper features duels as well.
> 
> With that, enjoy the Prelude of Winds!

When the war finished, their land was lost.

It wasn’t as if it no longer existed, of course. Rather, that in order to survive, they would need to allow the realms to merge before things were stable enough to stand within. It could take weeks…months, even, Nasch estimated with a somewhat grim scowl upon his face. To that end the souls of its inhabitants were carefully preserved in the only way they could, while the Lords fled to Earth for the meantime.

Along with the Barians, there were others who returned however. Gilag had Ponta, as an immediate example–the tanuki scrambled all over the young man like a squirrel, and Gilag in turn seemed the happiest he’d been in decades.

...Even compared to when they would spar.

Durbe as well, had someone–'Mach’, returned in the form of the magnificent winged horse. He took residence in the thankfully large grassy yard of Nasch’s old human home, and while they could not ride freely as they once did, it was enough for them to simply have the other’s company after how many years it had been.

It was similar of course, for Mizael and Jinlong. The dragon thankfully was able to take a smaller, human form as he had during the war however; and so he spent most of the time in the home under the guise of an old man. He had proven himself quite the cook among other domestic matters as well, becoming someone they quietly determined they could not possibly live without (not that anyone would have likely kicked him out to begin with).

No one knew what happened to the guardian of Vector’s number, of course. It wasn’t as if anyone was particularly fond of him and the one time that they had asked Vector about it he had simply shrugged. Muttered something about ghosts of a past he hadn't even been in control of at that point, remarking that they had gone down easily anyway. Similarly, the gods were the gods, and so Abyss and Crystal Zero both were nowhere to be seen. Something that had no question to even ask.

...Maybe it was because they were all more than mortal, he thought when he looked over the additions to their strange and tangled 'family'.

The winged horse, the raccoon dog, the dragon…perhaps that was the reason they remained, or reappeared.

Yet it did not stop a shard of bitterness from creeping into his heart when he saw Gilag and Ponta play. It did not stop it from settling when he watched Mizael learn to cook Jinlong’s stew under the latter’s tutelage, or when he saw Durbe reading beneath the tree at Mach’s side. Everyone else had their partner back, some way or another. Those who did not, didn't care-be it due to them representing memories preferably discarded, or gods whom they had no true personal connections to.

So then, where was his own, in the form of the ancient king? Where was the one to whom he had pledged his life, all of his heart and soul to? Where was the ruler whose mind had been so forcefully clouded, that when his own was similarly coated in haze, it would be their spirit he faced in the ruins of his number?

’ _Excuse me…_ ’

He wandered the halls between classes in a daze, for a while. The war was finished but there was the aftermath to deal with, and bouncing back and forth between this land and the other had him swaying on his feet at times. Whether because of the shift in energy balances or otherwise it was a harrowing trek, accompanied by just as stressful duels and battles that could only occasionally be viewed as fun. It was a cloud of pure chaos that they were battling to calm down after all…

The very essence of bitterness and rage, and sometimes he wondered if he was taking a bit from it. Bringing it deep into his heart, and letting it weigh him down until he sank into the ground.

’ _Um, excuse me…_ ’

He could barely hear what was around him now. The past few days were a blur, with Gilag telling him to stay home and sleep, with Yuuma asking if he needed more food, with Kotori gently tapping his shoulder during the classes they shared, the barian having dozed off with open eyes in the middle of a lesson. There were all these voices telling him he needed to just find some time for himself to recover, yet all of it passed over his ears with the wind-echoing distantly while he moved yet again from the lunchroom to the class. It was like being a ghost, really…

A rather appropriate comparison, given that he technically was one in a sense.

“Excuse–! AH-!”

They didn’t crash.

They almost did, but they didn’t somehow, despite the fact that he'd stopped so suddenly in the hallway she had been trying to pass him in for so long. When he spotted her however, he froze in place, eyes slowly widening and gaining colour as he took in her appearance.

She was in his grade, of course. With this being the start of their second middle school year, their uniforms both bore their own shades of green, accenting the other’s features in equally unique ways. For him of course, it was a neat match to his eyes, much like the red of the first year’s uniform had gone well with other things. For her however, it drew attention to the hair; braided neatly in two sections that hung over the shoulders, each bushel was largely blond, with streaks of red visible at the ends of her bangs and through the bottoms of the pigtails.

That alone, perhaps, wouldn’t have caused him to freeze. At the very least, if it had only been that he could have perhaps risked nothing more than an angelic moment, a quiet sigh of attraction that spoke of how he had met certain others on his mind long before. There was something else though…something more.

The tanned hue of her skin.

The blue eyes that, while shielded by oversized glasses, seemed to bear an all too recognizable shape.

The very  _face_ , despite its youth...

“Sorry…sorry..!” He blinked, her voice pulling him back from his hazy thoughts. The resemblance was powerful–too powerful, Alit found himself thinking. His thoughts blurred and swam with confusion, to the point where he even found himself cutting off the girl’s apologies.

“… _imperator_ …”

Her apologies quieted, and the girl frowned-as if to wonder if she'd heard him correctly, or if he were speaking to her at all. “S…sorry…” she repeated more quietly, before adding– “…What.. ..?”

It was a mistake. It wasn't 'him', and He shook his head with an awkward and forced laugh. “N-Nothing!” he replied, stepping aside to let her pass. “I just got distracted…” Just a year-mate, just… “You looked like someone I knew…”

It was a mistake–he was sure. …Yet the girl’s gaze lingered a little longer than expected, moving up and down the other's form almost studiously in fact. There was a flash of recognition–evident enough in a brief change of expression, a change brief enough that Alit’s laughter faded and became replaced with confusion. ...Only for his eyes to be met again with the girl’s nervous worry as she looked away to the side.

“I see…” She turned to leave. “Sorry…” Sorry…

Again with the apologies he thought, watching as the girl hurried to her classroom. It couldn’t possibly be the Emperor he determined (and even then, why would the Emperor be a woman now, let alone a young girl?). So Alit again shook his head, trying to put it from mind.

…If he could just…

“…What’s your name?” he called back to her, before she could disappear around a corner. It was so strange, this feeling–this foreign sensation that kept pulling at his chest, so different from the sight of angels, and from the sight of demons, from the sight of potential bonds from nothing. It was something else…

The girl turned back, and after a moment– “…Iidzuna Marika,” she replied softly.

And before he could give her his own, she was gone, vanishing into the crowd of students heading on their way.

 

* * *

 

“You don’t really think it’s…him, do you?”

It was the usual end of day ritual for them at this point, though Gilag was hardly finding it enjoyable these days. For the past week, there was only one thing Alit spoke of–but while there had been times where Alit would speak only of angels and duelists, the tones that these conversations held were far more grave, and far less amusing...which in turn meant he was left to deal with the general sensation of absolute despair surrounding his friend.

It was something of an obsession…and as Gilag refrained once again from calling it out, Alit merely held his drink and leaned back against the bar table with distant and clouded eyes. “…She just feels…familiar,” he insisted quietly, sounding quite unlike himself. “In a way I can’t describe, you know…like…” It was a different sort of tone to when he had met Kotori-so different from when his friend had idly spun his drink and sighed, muttering dreamily of angels sweeping him away. This was more 'personal', a shot to the chest that Alit could not shake away, and that Gilag could not properly help to handle. There’s a pause, and Alit manages to only barely finish his drink despite an incredibly nauseous sensation growing in his throat. Perhaps he hopes the fluid will make his throat feel less dry, but the worry in his voice threatens to crack it all the same. Familiar, he thinks... “…Like the ruins did…”

Gilag simply stares, silent. It isn’t as if Alit didn’t try to talk to the girl about it, after that initial encounter. He might not have walked up and simply said ’ _I think you were an emperor in a past life_ ’, but he had at least tried to talk to her. Once, twice...each time with a different approach, perhaps even a more cautious one but in the end however all he managed to do was unnerve her more. ...All while his suspicions became more and more grounded at the center of his crumbling heart. Because with every new thing he discovered, it seemed to her that he was hovering nearer, even as he stood an entire classroom away. With every uneasy bout of hesitance to approach, she realized he was still staring, even when it was just a subconscious turn from the corner of his eye. Until finally, the last time he tried…

“She told me she doesn’t want me to talk to her any more,” Alit admitted quietly. Gilag swallowed, unsure of what to say for the moment. “…I can’t ignore that kind of request this time…”

“Alit…”

His eyes were watering, not that Alit himself had noticed of course. But Alit did not answer his friend either, instead turning to the barman and putting his glass back on the table. “Thanks for the drink,” he started with a strained voice, hopping down from the stool while his friend sputtered behind him. “I’m heading out…”

“A-Alit!” Gilag shouted, downing the last of his curry before slamming payment down for the meal. He could not think of the words to say, nor what words could begin to be proper, but at the very least he could not stand the idea of leaving the other alone in such a mood. “Alit, wait..!”

“Mmm, if you’re both leaving, make sure to keep an eye out for the other,” the barman noted offhandedly, focusing on Gilag when it looked as if Alit was already gone.

Gilag turned, confused. “…Look out for..?”

The barman nodded. “Been a lot more crime in these parts…rumors are that it’s connected to some killings outside the city–keep an eye out, y’ hear?”

Needless to say, Gilag bolted after a quick nod in response, shouting for his friend. “A-Alit!" He cried, boots pounding against the sidewalk as he followed the path they would have typically taken homeward. "Alit, wait–!”

“ _Pon_!”

“Alit..!” he called louder, Ponta clambering out from his bag and onto his shoulder to join in the excitement. “A–”

’ _Another body has been found, bringing the total count up to a terrifying 6 murders in what police feel are the acts of one single culprit. The killings began approximately two months ago, and officers have noted that despite the distance between the events, there is ample evidence to connect them. As such, people are being advised to travel in groups of two or more, to avoid wandering the streets at night, and–_ ’

He found him about a block away from the bar, stopped by the sounds coming from display speakers nearby. “…Murders..?” Alit muttered, staring at a television screen as it broadcast associated footage from a store window. “When did…”

Gilag panted as he came beside him, swallowing once he realized what the broadcast was for. “…That’s exactly what the bartender was talking about,” he realized nervously, rubbing a shoulder. “…People getting killed…”

Mmm. A chill seemed to settle over them, eyes glued to the image of the last crime scene-mere minutes of driving from where they stood now. “…It’s nothing we should worry about though, right?” Alit found himself saying, shaking it off as he forced himself to look away. “We can look after ourselves plenty…”

“ _Pon_!” “Nghk-!” Gilag swallowed again, shaking. Just as the tanuki with him seemed to protest, he himself grew at least partly red-faced. “Th-That’s not what I was worried about..!”

“Well, good then,” Alit laughed. “We have enough on our plates right?”

“Mnnnhhhh…” That was true…Worrying, a little cold as well, but true, Gilag determined. “We probably only heard about this now because of everything with the Astral and Barian worlds…” That was certainly a full course of things to deal with in itself after all, but even so, one couldn’t help but worry. For all that they were doing for the Astral and Barian worlds, they _did_ still live in the Human one. And the human one, it seemed, was beginning to get more dangerous. “…We better warn the others at least…”

At that, Alit’s humor faded again. Much as they were strong enough to keep themselves from getting killed he was sure, there was definitely going to be good reason to let everyone else know after all. Particularly since not all of their friends were supernaturally strong 'extra-dimensional' beings. “Right,” he decided, glancing back at the TV in the corner of his eye one last time. He swallowed, and turned away once more. “We’ll do–”

He froze, and with his sudden silence, Gilag frowned-watching as Alit's stare locked upon a distant side street. “…Alit?” The teen bolted without a word, leaving Gilag to sputter and chase after once again. “AH- ALIT! Hey, wait..!” Still no answer as the barian ran, tailed by his friend and the tanuki all the while. His breath heaved in his chest, and his eyes were wide with incredulity yet again, the boy ahead only picking up speed as he disappeared around various corners. “What’s gotten into you..!? ALIT!”

Running, running, running…Gilag was slower, not by way of skill or determination, but common sense. He would catch the other eventually, but he would rather not blow out his lungs doing so.

Not like his friend likely was. “ALIT–!” It was chasing a ghost, that much felt certain about this in Alit's own mind. Chasing a ghost, a fleeting image, a reflection caught barely in the glass of the window in hues of gold, red, and green, and–

He stopped.

“Alit..!” Gilag protested, gasping for breath again as he finally caught up. “What’s the matter with you?!” he grumbled as he clasped Alit’s shoulder, fully intending to spin the other around so he could complain more directly. “Running off like…”

“ _P-on!_ ”

Ponta said it all, really, from their position upon the other's shoulder. And slowly, Gilag's eyes moved from Alit's shocked and stiff form to what both the tanuki and his friend were looking at.

Leaving Gilag as well to choke.

What lay before them was battered and broken,  stained a deep, crimson red. The fluids were frozen in a permanent shadow of flow from the mouth, and from the chest as well, where a gaping hole the size of a fist could be seen. It was clear to them–who were fighters themselves–that the damage was well within the range of a fist fight- or at least one at their level as fully realized barians. What lay before them however, would stand no chance against one of their race–not a single human on earth ever could outside a duel after all. Standing before it, Gilag and Alit thus found themselves growing steadily aware of one thing–

The murders that had begun not long after their war had ended…

Had at last reached Heartland itself.

And if he had been following a ghost, Alit found himself thinking as his friend rapidly fumbled over a D-Gazer to call authorities, then he was assuredly cursed.

 

* * *

 

_'If she was the last one at the scene, you should have said so.’_

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t said anything. His thoughts continued to repeat that one line through his head, and because of where they’d found the body he found himself passing yellow tape after school whenever he and Gilag went to their usual place at the bar. Even Gilag didn’t know why he’d run to begin with–when he was asked, he’d just said he had a feeling. A hunch, a sort of...sensation that something was  _happening_ , and Gilag had taken it and left it at that.

He told the others as much as well, when the police had dropped by the house for further questioning. It was difficult after all, to avoid saying anything at all once there were police at the door, and it was with a grim expression that he filled them in after the officers had left. If they were suspicious, they weren’t saying so–and it was strange to have only Vector put more reason than 'of course not!’ into thoughts on the contrary. After all…

If Alit wanted a fight, he’d want a fair one, wouldn’t he? Gilag certainly insisted as much himself, adding that it would have been relatively incredible if anyone were capable of cleaning themselves of blood that fast.

It was probably bitterness again that had him wondering if the others believed it themselves, for all that the evidence supported his alibi. And after all, Don Thousand wasn’t completely gone, was he? So long as Chaos existed, so long as there was even a shard, he would be there. After all, above all others, weren’t he and Gilag the ones to take the most unfortunate blow from his control, losing themselves to a sort of dueling far ill fitting to their ideals? Wasn't he, in particular, the one who was so distant these days, so quiet, so...  
  
 _Upset?_

When he was alone he would hold his head, deep breaths wracking his body. He was being foolish–of course they believed him…of course they did..! That these murders happened soon after the war, and outside of Heartland at that…those two things alone could only add to the alibi, right? It was impossible for him to have committed most of these crimes, not only through location but time as a whole!

So then why…

Why were they looking at him like this, when it seemed that he was not?

“…It was Marika’s reflection,” he finally admitted to them, standing at the edge of the room where they sat discussing unknown things. They turned, some with alarm, some with concern, and one particular redhead with an expression that more or less read 'it’s about damn time’. He chose to ignore it-not wanting to think of what that perhaps meant for the looks he had been feeling at the back of his neck since the mess began, given all he had said in regard to Marika herself. “…When Gilag and I found the body, I thought I’d seen Marika’s reflection passing toward that street.”

“Marika’s?” Gilag questioned, blinking rapidly. It wasn't a name the others didn't recognize-but it was certainly a name with enough importance and  _distance_ that it could not be as easy to defend them. There was a heavy silence that sat in the room from there, the sort that fell when news of death, or grave injury, hovered on people’s lips.

There was more, after all–they knew it from Alit’s face.

“…I asked her about it, but she said she was never there,” he continued, swallowing. It had been difficult enough to even question her on it, and while he clenched his fists, Vector snorted.

“She’s lying then, obviously!” he announced, Alit briefly slackening his grip in shock.

Just as swiftly, his fists were clenched again and raised up for 'attack’, a single step forward enough to render the trickster serious. “A liar?” he snapped back, a scowl on his face. “Where do you get the right to say that!?”

Vector shrugged. “It takes one to know one doesn’t it?” he offered, Nasch scowling rather predictably at the poor defense. With his next words, and Alit’s own response however, there could be no focus on rivalry. “Not to mention…you came to us with that for a reason, didn’t you..?”

…That was right. He had. Sitting soaked with paranoia and guilt, with his thoughts and fears eating away at him bit by bit, he had. The statement left him silent, and Alit's fists shook at his sides as he turned his head away. “…Something that uses that much force…it can’t be human, right?” he 'asked', forcing himself not to chase the rabbit that was running this path.

There was a nod from the others. “Obviously,” Mizael muttered, his expression thoughtful but set. “But obviously,” he added seriously, “It isn’t any of _our_ doing either.”

“That said, it’s not outside a Number’s power,” Merag offered. "...And while those  _should_ be banished back to our realms, it could be possible that the manifestation of one would keep their abilities..."

“Adding in the fact that this 'Marika’ is someone you suspect is tied to the Emperor of your past…”

Alit choked, shaking. “W- Oii oiii!” he cut in, turning on Durbe just as soon as the spectacled knight was far enough into the statement. “Until now, none of you have been really buying what I said about her…none of you thought she was HIM!" he insisted, Gilag in particular finding himself unable to look directly at Alit with the accusation. "But now that she could be a murderer–”

“Not could. She probably is,” Nasch replied coldly. Leaning back in his seat, he crossed his arms and leveled Alit with a sharp glare. “Unless you had other reasons for waiting until now to tell us what you saw.”

“I…” …Because he hadn’t wanted to drag that upon her. Because she couldn’t have done it, she couldn’t have!  _Because it couldn't, but it was all he was seeing for the past week, at every hour of his sleep and wakefulness-_

…And that in itself said something of his subconscious, something he did not and never wanted to associate his Emperor with. So instead of answering, he clenched his fists, the others watching in silence. Instead of responding, he looked up with a demonic fire in his eyes, one that had Vector sitting up from his relaxed seat and had the others narrowing their gaze.

“She isn’t a murderer,” he insisted flatly, turning on the spot to leave. “And I’ll prove it!”

Gilag stood as his friend vanished, Ponta chasing after for a few steps himself. “What– Alit!” he called after in protest, “Alit, just listen to us, we weren’t finished..!” The teen was already gone however, and Gilag raised his voice-as if hoping the other could still be in earshot. “ALIT–!”

Mizael set a hand on his arm, shaking his head. “Let him go… …He’ll find out for himself whether he’s right or wrong,” he sighed, resigned to the likely gloom they would be dealing with for the next however-long

“NGk…you didn’t see that body though..!” Gilag insisted, turning on the blond. His face was marred more with fear than it was with any sort of anger, and Ponta's anxious squeaks only emphasized it. “He meant it when he said it was 'our strength’..! And if it were a number, it would have to be one that suits _us_ above anything!”

From the side, there was an amused snort. “Hohhh, are you saying it was you then?” Vector offered, chuckling at the scene he was watching unfold.

Gilag ground his teeth but said nothing in reply to that, instead turning to follow after his friend while Ponta clambered back up to his shoulder. “Fine! I can see how it is," the man snapped, nothing but a crowd with thoughts of 'staying out of it' seeming to sit before him. If it was something so 'trivial' it wasn't their business, and if it became their business it would just be that much more troublesome. And what was there to worry for, in the safety of their homes? Certainly, the others they knew were taking proper precautions, so... So Gilag choked, fists tight and nails digging into his palms while he turned back from the door. "…I won’t leave this to a single fight though!” he insisted, final words ringing through the room. “Not after what I saw..!”

And so yet another of the group was then gone, and the others were left to deal with the aftermath.

If only for a few moments. “… …Hahhhhhhh…” A sigh soon followed, long and tired. “I’m going to drag those idiots back here,” Mizael grumbled, hair swishing behind him as he walked. “Before half the city ends up caught in whatever scuffle they start up between themselves…”

“Well, that might just be interesting enough to watch…~” chuckled a still grinning red-head, the sound of laughter only increasing as Mizael rolled his eyes.

It did not so much as stop, as become replaced by more words, when yet another of the Emperor's gave their own groaning sigh. “If you’re going, I’m coming as well,” Nasch muttered automatically as Vector stood, the latter turning back to pose semi dramatically in reply.

“Awwww, you care so much Naschie~~”

“It’s to keep you from making things worse, dumbass..!”

Durbe and Merag traded barely a glance before sighing at the same moment, standing up to follow as well. “It seems we’re all going then,” Durbe decided, shaking his head.

“Honestly, you’re all so ridiculous…”

Vector just chuckled once more and took the lead ahead of Mizael himself, shrugging. “So we’re having a party then! Exciting~!”

By this point, at least one more groan at minimum from the others was expected. There were things to be expected with Vector living in the house, but that did not mean they had to enjoy it after all.

 

* * *

 

He wasn’t sure where he was running, but his heart and his mind told him that he was off to a good start at least, so he continued at the same breakneck pace he was now reaching. He didn’t like this, what his mind was doing to him. Swimming these thoughts around, seeing shades of a girl who so clearly had  _something_ to do with the one in his past,  _something_ to do with him, somehow. He didn’t want her to be guilty of these crimes–he didn’t want her to be a murderer, whether it were in the past or the present, but not only was there no real evidence to the contrary but any evidence supporting was enough that he’d hesitated to bring it up. Enough to plague his thoughts and force him to confess, with so much guilt in his heart that he might as well have been the one to punch through those people after all.

He’d hesitated, he reminded himself, but that could mean anything right?

Alit's heart struggled against his mind, and his dreams continued to fight for what he craved. Marika didn’t want anything to do with them–she’d made that clear, he knew this. If…if he’d brought it up then, they’d have been all over her, right? If not the others, then the police themselves most certainly, so that was probably why, right? The police would have if anything been WORSE to handle, and what sort of care was that for someone he only wished well for? That had to be the reason, he thought as he slowed down, pausing at the entrance to an alley for some breath. It had to–

He froze, catching gold and red in the corner of his eye, and _there she was_.

Her back was to him. It looked for a moment as if she were finishing up a duel, but if he’d looked he’d have noticed that the cards that were there bore more substance than AR. He’d have remembered that while the man standing in front of her wore a D-Gazer, he himself had none and no magic had been activated to cover for it.

He would have noticed perhaps, that there was something  _Different_ about the girl now charging her opponent, charging with no reason to actually do so, and as he choked-.

“GUAA _GH-K_!”

She punched right through that man.

For a moment he had to remind himself that he was even there. It felt like a dream, after all–there was a flash of gold and then a flash of red, and in his mind he could almost hear the sound of a life point counter drop to zero. He heard the sound of a steady drop of 'pings' in the same moment her fist was wrenched from the form, which now twitched once and lay silent. Staring blankly upward, eyes losing their shine before his own.

“M…Mari…”

“Hnnnnn…” The girl turned around, and he was forced to remove his gaze from the mess, looking instead to Marika herself. There was not a speck of anxiety in her posture-if anything what she carried was annoyance as she flicked her hand free of the red. “You followed me..? Again..?”

Why did he suddenly feel cold. Sweat broke out along his neck, and Alit's eyes were wide and confused. Questioning,  _searching_ even, as if hoping this were some sort of trick.

But not even Vector would have gone this far, and as his lips moved he could not deny the words forming from them. “…You’re the murderer…”

Marika smiled softly, but the expression soon became quite harsh. “An execution is different from a murder,” she replied, Alit’s body tensing at the phrase. “And far more _justified_ …”

Justified…justified…a crowd of shouts filled his ears, and where there was the stare of a young girl shorter than he, he could instead see nothing but the looming and clouded visage of a king located far above him.

Why did he feel  _afraid_. “I can’t believe it…” He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. His neck burned just as it had as a newly sharpened axe cleaved through it, but instead of the minute sensation from back then he felt it sear the entire time he was speaking. “You really were…”

“It was their own doing,” the girl insisted with sharpness, eyes narrowing in her irritation. “I hardly see why you should have any qualms about this…they picked a fight…and they gave their heart and soul in payment…”

Their– Alit swallowed, and some courage crawled its way back into his actions, his posture straightening and stiffening alongside a glare. “Somehow, I don’t think it was a fair fight then…”

He could almost hear the laugh under her words. “It wouldn’t be fair when they used their expectations… …why should I return the favor,” Marika snorted, waving the other's words off. While Alit visibly angered at the words, she continued. “They deserve what they received,” she announced, “Eye for eye, they attacked me first!”

“To _kill_ you?”

She simply smiled, and shrugged, moving to walk past him.

While he did not stop her, he continued to speak, rage growing for every step she put between him and her back. “You…” This couldn’t be him, after all. The way she punched the now dead man on the ground, the very way she was acting…yet her face, her hair, her  _eyes_ –! Only a Barian, or perhaps a Numbers could have done it they theorized,  _and here she was!_ He choked on his own words until finally he managed a single statement that had her turn with a raised brow. “…Duel me!”

“Hoh..?” Marika narrowed her eyes, watching as the barian turned to face her. “You’re challenging me?” Before Alit could answer, she smirked, cracking her knuckles and giving him her full attention. “Interesting… …it’ll be fun, taking on someone that’s come back from the dead..~!”

Dead..?

A shudder passed through his spine once more and while Alit faltered, the girl’s grin grew wider still. “You thought I didn’t know?” she asked, the Barian locked in place. He could do nothing as she continued on, the girl walking through motions that reminded him more and more of  _Vector_ rather than the prince of his memory with each passing second. “I’ll admit, I’d been wondering what was wrong when my memory started going fuzzy…suddenly I could recall things that weren’t familiar to me at all!” she cheered, shaking her head. “But you know…" Marika sighed, almost  _wistfully_ as she went on. "…It was all worth it in the end…”

It couldn’t be the emperor. On his arm appeared his gauntlet, and yet Marika’s eyes did not so much as twitch in acknowledgement of the act. His eye bled crimson, and still she did not move, while he himself took a stance and readied himself for the duel. “Killing people was worth it? This isn’t who you were..!” he insisted, shaking his head. “It never was..!”

“And what do you know of me?” Marika replied, crossing their arms but briefly. “The murderer to the axe, isn’t that right..?” Again Alit was frozen in place, left to watch as the realm around them seemed to shift. Rather than seeming coated with AR it seemed to shine–to give off  _real_  light, with real winds howling through his ears and carrying dust off the ground. The girl’s eyes gleamed behind the growing storm that was now surrounding them, and for some reason Alit felt as if this might not be the power of a number at all.

If anything it seemed as if it could be something far worse. Nonetheless, “We were friends,” he choked hoarsely, forcing himself to speak. Nonetheless, “We fought together…talked together…” Nonetheless…

He wanted to _try_. “Hmn!" Marika's tone was one of interest and curiosity, and that in itself had him incline his head with suspicion. "I see,” she chuckled, her hands on her hips. “You think I’m the host…and not the 'lessor', so to speak.”

What? “…What are you talking about,” Alit murmured, eyebrows furrowing just slightly. Lessors....that was someone renting, borrowing,  _paying_ somehow, but then- “…What do you mean  _the host_!?”

“Those memories of the past…I never said they were _mine_ after all,” Marika started, watching the confusion on her opponent’s face turn to rage. “How could they be?" she laughed loudly, the cries ever mocking as they came. "A will that crumbles so easily, a man who would sacrifice his own friend to the blade..!”

“You said 'the murderer to the axe’,” he protested, struggling to follow the other's logic. “You–”

“Mnnnnn..? That’s how you people say things, isn’t it?” She shrugged carelessly, shaking her head. For a moment she looked genuinely confused over his question, perhaps even waiting for him to explain it. “Pot to the kettle, or something like that..?”

…This was a demon. That was the only way he could describe it, as he looked over the one before him and took in their words and actions. Something inhuman, more inhuman than he and the others, taking a human’s body…

The  _emperor’s_  body–!

“This was mine before things were rewritten,  _boy_.”

At Marika’s next words, Alit was torn from his thoughts, expression shifting once again into confusion. As if she had read his very mind she gave her announcement, looking to him as one would look toward a particularly unpleasant bug. “ _Boy_ –?”

“Hnm! Old as you are, you’re still that, next to me!” she scoffed, the winds growing fiercer now that she was back on track. “Hundreds…thousands of years, I’ve been tied to this bloodline…" she hissed, lips curling with rage. "And then what should happen, but another chain? To a reincarnation at that?”

“What are you saying then!” Alit shouted, the winds drowning his voice and scratching at his skin. “That you were _there_?!”

A sudden gust and he was blown back with a cry, back skidding across the ground. “ _I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE…SEALED AWAY FROM THE WIND AND SKY! LOCKED FROM WHAT WAS RIGHTFULLY MINE! **YOU WON’T TAKE THAT FROM ME AGAIN** ,_” 'Marika’ roared, voice coated thick with the sound of another presence. It echoed and doubled in his ears, and he shouted until the winds seemed to relax against him-or at least until he could force strength into his own defense against it. “ **NOT WHEN I CAN HAVE _MY_**   **JUSTICE! THOSE LIKE YOUR EMPEROR…GIVING HEART AND SOUL TO A BATTLE ONLY IN THEIR SEEMING FAVOR, THEY’LL ALL FALL BEFORE ME! SUN WUKONG! EQUAL OF HEAVEN, AND _TRICKSTER GOD OF THE ROARING WINDS_!** ”

Sun…Sun wu what? The name rushed through his mind, but nothing registered with it. It didn’t sound like anything familiar, not at all. Nothing Greek, Italian, Latin…

Somehow he could not tremble any longer however. Marika–or perhaps more accurately 'Sun Wukong’–was hidden behind the wind now, and as he lay on the ground all he could think of was all that came before her grandiose titles and show of power. Pulling himself to his feet again, Alit’s head remained bowed, his lips sealed as Sun Wukong looked toward him. “ **Saahhh, sahhh, 'Gladiator’! Did you not want to duel? Do you think you’ll fail, now that you’ve seen the truth?** ” 'she’ asked, fingers twitching as a fanged grin faintly made itself visible in the storm.

“…The emperor prince…he’s been there, the entire time?” he whispered, too quiet for most, but just enough for the so called god of the wind to hear.

“As I said,” she repeated, voice retaining the echoed double it shared with a much more menacing voice. “It was mine until things were rewritten… …and now that it is so, I refuse to let things change! Not even if his soul has finally decided to catch up with his own intended path of rebirth!”

His soul… So then. Two months ago, he realized, eyes snapping up to the girl. Two months ago, when Yuuma unleashed the Numeron Code, when the others were reunited with their friends, the spirits released from the numbers ruins…two months ago, all of them bad indeed been freed as he had wondered and lamented.

Including the spirit of the one he’d punched through by force, that shade who had looked his possessed form in the eye and shouted ' _YOU!'_.

“If I win, you let him go.”

Sun Wukong seemed stunned. “You still intend to duel me?” she asked, only to bring her grin back once more. Such a display was, after all, more than she had ever granted her victims-yet here he was... “ _Actually_  duel?”

Alit felt himself shake with her question. Were the others not 'entertaining' enough to her then? Were those duels not 'duels' to her? He kept those remarks to himself, simply looking at her with shadowed and coldly determined eyes. “Is that an agreement?”

“Is that an  _answer_?” the god countered, chuckling darkly as she banished the storm. The field, now, was clear-they could see each other in full and more importantly what cards they could play. “Hnhnhnhnhnnn…draw your cards and make your move,” she ordered, something of a disk appearing on her arm at that moment. “I’ll take that bet–!”

“Right!” As demanded, the cards came forward, Alit’s eyes only briefly looking over the cards before they turned back to the 'god’. He knew what was in his hand–from there he could think fine, just as long as he kept in mind what was at stake…

He would make them regret giving them this move–along with everything else they’d done!

“First, I summon Burning Knuckler Glassjaw in attack mode!” he announced, the green boxer rising up from the AR field. “From there, I activate the effect of Burning Knuckler Spar from my hand–if I control another Burning Knuckler,” Alit explained, “I can special summon him from my hand at the cost of my battle phase!” Not that it mattered, since this was the first turn…but this was serious and he wasn’t holding back! The second battler arose, and as it threw a few practice punches, he swallowed. If he’d had his numbers still, he’d be able to summon Cestus…

But that was then and this was now–the Barian numbers were gone, and he would do perfectly well without! He had no choice, after all-both in using other means, but as well in  _winning_. “I overlay my two monsters," Alit continued, his voice betraying his anxious heart. "Forming the XYZ network–! With Burning Knuckler Glassjaw and Burning Knuckler Spar, appear–! Burning Knuckler, Leadblow, the Bound Barbarian–!”

“ _HUHHOOOOOOHH-_!” With as much a punch as could be mustered the chained fighter appeared, their opponent staring with vague interest at the display. Now, the summon was made…

Which left all he could do from here, given the rules of attack. “I’ll set two cards, and end my turn!”

His opponent _yawned._ “Is that it then?” Sun Wukong questioned, Alit once again finding himself with narrowing eyes and grinding teeth. “Very well,” she sighed, villainous smirk on her face. Before her eyes, she seemed to change–her hair broke from its braids, growing wilder and tangled. Teeth that only appeared to be sharpened became fanged in reality, eyes gaining a feral sheen as the irises shrank. Fur even seemed to appear over the hands, and if he told himself he wasn’t seeing things, he could swear that amid the gold armor that was beginning to coat her body, there was a tail.

Sun Wukong, 'Monkey King’…

Alit's thoughts cut short as her voice met the air again. “My turn! First, I summon Demon King Roc!” she announced, a great winged bird initially appearing to the field. In an instant however, it faded to ash, blowing back to cover her left arm in a great golden gauntlet instead. “The Roc’s effect is thus,” she continued, putting up a fist as her opponent frowned. “If I have as many monsters on my field as my opponent…I can attack directly!”

While Alit merely ground his teeth more tightly in the face of the words, he did not have long to feel annoyance. In fact, as his opponent moved, it was only instinct which spared him next, leaving him no time to question the method with which her monster had appeared in the first place. “NGHK–!” Blocking her fist was like blocking a thousand of Gilag’s own, and while he caught the blow, his shoes dug into the earth to leave trails as he was pushed back by the force. She moved as swiftly as the wind, with all the force of the driving storm, and while his hands shook around hers, the god laughed.

“WELL now…”

“NGHkk…” He grunted through the pain, arms actually trembling. Where one was amused, he felt ready to fall over already, and the very fact was terrifying. “What kind of dueling.... is..."

“This is a real duel,” she whispered, bouncing back and leaving her opponent to stumble from the sudden loss of force. “To catch my punch like that…perhaps this time I can finally have a bit of fun~! hHHAHAHAHAHHAAAA-!”

That was what had killed the others, he realized coldly, breath heaving as he tried to steady his stance again. A direct hit, a blow to the chest…from nothing more than a standard monster!

While his lifepoints fell, he looked across the field with new resolve burning in his eyes, the trickster trembling in excitement. “I’ll set three cards,” she told him, the barian only then noticing that the cards she had held vanished and appeared just as quickly as the monsters, rather than being set upon the disk first. “Give me a good show, gladiator–!”

Hah…1600 points down…that was all it had been, and that had been enough to take out hearts! “What was that?” he demanded, still struggling to catch his wind. “That force wasn’t from any of the cards!”

“Wasn’t it?” she laughed, giving another careless shrug. “I suppose my strength is unknown even to me, after so long in the dark..~! Or perhaps with time, your duels have simply grown weak…”

“WHAT-!”

“This is a 'real duel’, boy,” she sneered. “Where fists and weapons are traded one on one, and monsters come to dance. This is a TRUE battle,” she proclaimed, forcing her opponent to duck beneath a blast of wind, “SO SHOW ME YOUR  _STRENGTH_ ,  **BARIAN** -!”

Barian… The word echoed in his ears. “So you know even that…” he 'laughed’ weakly, shaking his head. What didn’t this 'thing’ know, at this point? The Emperor, their lives, anything in between…he clenched his fists and tightened his jaw, drawing a card and half expecting her to ask about the Numeron War. “My turn,” he shouted, looking to the field. “Draw!”

Duels were physical now. Not just physical as in the duels in the Barian World either..blow upon blow, the monsters would be the weapons here, if even that one single attack had been any indication. If he was going to land a hit…

Hah. A bitter smirk came over his face. It was incredible…if this had been anyone else, and any other time, he would probably even be excited right now.

Instead, what should have been a dream come true was becoming his nightmare, a corpse sitting near to them as a damning reminder of exactly why that was. “I summon Burning Knuckler Switch Hitter in attack mode,” he announces, the somewhat worn boxer springing up with a call. “And with him, I attack the 'Roc’!”

“Attack me?” Sun Wukong laughed, waving a hand at the thing. “With that thing?”

Even so as she blocked the hit, her eyes widened, gauntlet beginning to crack under the hologram’s fist.

“From the hand, I activate Burning Knuckler Counterpunch’s effect!” Alit continues on, mirroring the blow from where he stood. The monster at Sun Wukong’s front pulled his free hand back, and with wide eyes her gaze snapped to one of her set cards. “By banishing this card from my hand or graveyard during the damage step, a Burning Knuckler I control can gain 1000 attack points!”

“NGH–!” The move would have been plenty to take out her bird, yet instead, one of her cards faded from the hand-the gauntlet remaining cracked upon her arm. “From the hand; Spirit King Mii’s effect! When my opponent has more monsters on my field than I, I can special summon this monster from my hand!” A blue cloaked monkey rose up in the winds, and as she kicked herself back, the knuckler’s fist pierced through its body. “From there, his second effect activates!” she shouts, a grin again on her face. “Once per turn, when the number of monsters on my opponents field are equal to my own, I can redirect the attack to him!”

To 'Mii’..? But that monster, according to what could be seen at least, had  _less_  attack…so why–

“Activate trap!” As a card swung up, Switch Hitter’s fist began to glow. “Chainmail of the Handsome King! When a monster on my side of the field would be destroyed by battle,” she laughed, her monsters seeming to do the same, “Not only do I negate their destruction…but my opponent takes all the battle damage I would have!”

Shit. As the wave blasted his monster back, he found himself hurrying to run in a similar direction, the truths of the Trickster’s dueling all too clear to him now. “Counter trap–!” he hurriedly called, one of his two set cards swinging upward to his defense as he fled from the strike. “Counter Clash! It negates the activation of my opponent’s counter trap during the battle phase!”

“In that case,” she laughed, spinning something in her hand, “I negate that!” With a step so quick even he couldn’t catch it, she dodged the renewed punch that Switch Hitter made, the shockwaves rebounding right back to Alit. “The trap card 'Cloud-stepping Boots’ activates!” she announced, the next of her set cards flipping upward. “When my opponent activates a card effect, I negate it…and skip to the endphase of that turn!”

The end…

“SHIT–!” Unable to stop the blast, he was knocked back and over, tumbling horridly until he finally rolled to a stop with a cough. “KGH…Hahhhgh…gk…” That was another 1300 points of damage…it was barely the start of the duel, and he was already at a mere 1100 lifepoints, he realized, forcing himself to his feet.

“Hmhmhmhm…nice try,” the trickster 'complimented’, calmly walking back toward him. “But you’ll have to do better than that..! Perhaps if you didn’t spend so much time standing around,” she added, her opponent growling under his breath, “You’d make a better hit–!”

Hihhh…hihhhhhh…he panted from his position, and slowly fixed a renewed glare toward the other.

“It’s my turn,” Sun Wukong hummed, eyes narrowed with mirth. “And since we now have two monsters on our fields, I’ll be attacking with the Demon King Roc!” she roared, charging forward through the dust. Narrowly, he managed to dodge the hit, rushing to the side lest he take the dangerously solid blow in his already sorry state.

“NH– I play the spell 'Overlay Flash’,” he counters swiftly, his opponent spinning around only for 'Leadblow’ to stand between them. “This card lets me use Leadblow’s overlay units to negate the effects of your cards–in this case,” he adds, Sun Wukong skidding to a stop, “The Roc’s!”

The girl did not hesitate to change targets. “In that case, you’ll have to take this hit at the least..! I’ll attack Switch Hitter–!”

Though the punch rang through the air, he did not falter, grimacing as the attack struck the hologram. “Leadblow’s effect activates–! By removing his last overlay unit,” Alit shouted, the last of his metal bonds fracturing whilst the monster loomed above their opponent, “I can prevent another Burning Knuckler’s destruction!” It was still a 100 points of damage, but at least he still had the monster on the field. It’d be worth at least that much, wouldn’t it?

Sun Wukong narrowed her eyes at the boxer pulling itself back up, wiping a bit of dirt from her jaw as she stared. Leadblow gained attack with each discarded unit–this would mean her loss in the end, he was sure!

…Almost, at least. “Trap card," Sun Wukong responded, spitting at the ground. "'Rewriting the Book of Souls!”

“Tch–!”

“When a monster I attack isn’t destroyed by battle,” she chuckles darkly, turning her eyes back upon the Barian, “Not only do we skip the remainder of this turn…but all monsters you have on your field at this moment can no longer attack-!”

The blood drained from his face. This was more than a mere risk to his life points after all, and he hurriedly took in the look of the field. “You…” Shit. Shit.  _SHIT_ –

“And with that of course, my turn ends,” she laughs, shaking her head. Two monsters on her field, two on his…

She needed the even field, and if he didn’t get rid of this soon, it would mean the end! “My turn!” he shouted, empty hand snatching the top card from his deck. All he could see before him was his old friend’s face twisted into a monster, and it was making him ill. His vision swam from the battle as it were and yet, he reminded himself bitterly, he had barely done anything at all. It was like the last two months…going through the motions, trying nothing…and even when he was trying it seemed, there was only a pressuring wave of darkness crushing his heart.

As he looked over his card however, a thought hit him. The cards…Astral had given them all a card hadn’t he, he realized with growing resolve. That was right–'these are meant to be yours’, he had said, and though he had expected Lion Heart in that moment, it was something else that was handed to him.

Something that wasn't a number at all.

“I activate the spell card 'XYZ Treasure,’ he began, "Allowing me to draw one card for every XYZ monster on my field!” It was only one, he thought to himself, but one was enough. It was more than enough even Alit realized, and as he readied himself to charge at last, he could hear his heart racing. Luck was on his side, and despite the pain, he managed to strengthen his voice yet further. “The card I drew is 'XYZ Tag-team; this lets me target one XYZ monster on my field, and one monster with the same or less attack in my graveyard, changing their places–and I choose Burning Knuckler Leadblow and Burning Knuckler Spar!” Alit decided. In a shower of sparks one half of the crippled field was cleared, replaced with the comparatively active 'Spar’. “I can then draw one card,” the barian finished, doing just that. Once again, it was just one, but…

Even with just one, this could work-!

“I construct the overlay network with Burning Knuckler Spar, and Burning Knuckler Switch Hitter–!” he roared, the two monsters spiraling in streaks of light. “ _Warrior of the Flaming Heart, combine the battle spirits of your brothers and fight–!_ XYZ SUMMON!” the chant rang, cards shuffling and shifting while he took off toward the 'god’. And as if sensing the danger coming, Sun Wukong began to run, her fanged grin fading when she realized what would come her way. “Burning Knuckler Kaiser, the Nova–!”

At 2500 attack it was already enough to destroy Marika’s bird–however, that was not all he aimed for. “Nova’s effect activates,” Alit announced, his opponent streaking up the side of a wall with her power as Alit jumped in attempt to follow. “Once per turn, I can take one Burning Knuckler monster from the graveyard and add it to him as an XYZ unit–and,” he added, pausing in exhaustion against the brick wall of two stories above, “For every XYZ unit Nova has…he gains 100 attack–!”

Two were already counted–but now it was 2600, and as he took another card from his hand, he swallowed. “Now, I normal summon Burning Knuckler Headgear, activating his effect; when I normal summon this monster,” he explained, the red fisted warrior beating the air in preparation for battle, “I can send one card from my deck to the graveyard…and I choose Burning Knuckler Counterpunch!”

The card was moved–he couldn’t sit here forever, and with grinding teeth, he forced himself to jump, the field layout finally moving toward his favor. “NOW-!  _ATTACK THE ROC_ , NOVA–!”

“nA _UHH-_!” Sun Wukong couldn’t avoid this one.

“From the graveyard, Counterpunch’s effect–!” Alit continued fiercely, “By banishing him, Nova gains 1000 attack points in the damage step-!”

“NNHHhg _GHAAAAAAAUUUHHHHGGH-_ -!” She couldn’t avoid it, and with 3600 against 1600, there was no way she could escape unscathed. From Nova’s hit combined with his own admittedly weakened one, she was thrown into the ground, a cloud of dust rising into the air while he landed outside it.

“Hahhh…hahhh…” That couldn’t be it, he thought to himself, calculating all there was in his head. That was still only 2000 damage–which meant they were only half way through. “ _Hahh….hahhh_ …” Only half… “Hn _ngh_ -!”

His breathing caught in his throat as the smoke cleared, Sun Wukong’s snarling face growing more and more visible through the haze. “Hhahhhhh… _you_ ,” she hissed, all amusement suddenly fading.

Despite himself, the barian couldn’t help but smirk, albeit weakly. “What’s the matter,” he echoed, wiping a bit of dripping blood from his cheek and taking a more battle ready stance. “Having second thoughts, now that you know you won’t win?”

Sun Wukong’s 'grin’ was wild and terrific, her eyes wide with unhinged rage. “Hnhnnhnhnhn…hhnnn _ahahahhahahhaaaa_ …You think that’s all?” she spat, winds beginning to gather in the area once again. “You think that if you manage to land a hit, that’s the duel?” Alit’s grim stare persisted while his smirk fell, and as he had nothing else to do, his opponent took her cue. “It’s my turn now,  _BOY_ ,” she announced, rising into the air with her own power. “NOW BEAR WITNESS TO THE HONOR OF WHAT WILL BE YOUR _END-_! I activate the spell 'Feathers for the Crimson Cap’, special summoning the Spirit King Yuu from my hand!” she began, “And with our fields equal once more,” the god continued, Alit stiffening, “I activate his effect! Special summoning the Demon King Roc from my graveyard!” That–

“Another monster?!” he questioned aloud, his glare discarded in the place of confusion and growing anxiety. “But that makes the field _uneven_..! Why would you–!”

“NOW!” Her shout cut him off, and he ducked under his arm against the wind. “ _I TRIBUTE ALL THREE OF MY MONSTERS, SUMMONING FORTH ANOTHER FROM MY VERY SOUL_!  _THAT WHICH TRAVELS THE WEST ENDLESSLY…WHICH CAN BE CAUGHT BY NOTHING, NOR TAMED BY NO ONE,_ ” Sun Wukong snarled, heavy gold armor moving to coat her form as her already bestial appearance grew more prominent. “ _BEHOLD! **THE TRICKSTER GOD OF THE ROARING WIND! SUN WUKONG-**_!”

Fuck. For all that he had thought of demons and spirits when it appeared a Numbers monster was not responsible, he did not at all expect things to move  _back_ to that definition. “YOU’RE A  _DUEL MONSTER_!?” It should have figured really, but as a staff appeared in her hand he immediately braced himself to counter the blows, forcing the thought from mind to focus on the present.

“I equip myself with the staff, Ruyi Jingu Bang, allowing me to utilize my effect twice–and that effect is! At the start of the battle phase,” she announced, “If my opponent’s monsters are not equal to my own in number, I attack for as many times as the monsters tributed toward this summon!” Tha…that was…

Three monster tributes. That was why she’d done this, but there were three tributes and that meant three attacks. Add another three on top of things, and…

“AND NOW, I ATTACK–!”

No. “FIRST, NOVA-!” she roared, the block against the staff coming easily when his best monster was taking the majority of the hit. Even 700 points however, the barian adding another XYZ unit while he could, would not save them both. While Nova scattered in a wave of pixelated light, he himself felt his feet dig into the ground as his life dropped from 1000 to 700. “AND NOW–”

“Nova’s effect!” he roared, knocking Sun Wukong back with all the force he could muster. Six attacks-and it would be all he could do to try and defend against even  _part_ of it. “For every XYZ unit equipped, I can special summon a Burning Knuckler from my graveyard!”

Sun Wukong had 3000 attack. Nothing he had would counter it, but if he could even wait it out through to the end he thought, charging with the offensive as the names rolled off his tongue-

“GLASSJAW, DEFENSE MODE!” he shouted, throwing a punch as she deflected with the staff. Light scattered and cut across his face, causing him to choke as he went.

“SPAR, DEFENSE MODE!” Alit continued, ducking the strike she threw in retaliation to grab the weapon for leverage.

“Destroyed,” she called after each name, “AND DESTROYED!” she repeated again.

“Switch Hitter!” he cried, clipping her face and lunging to send her own weapon against her before she pulled it free. “LEADBLOW–!”

“ALL DESTROYED!” Sun Wukong snapped, their blows countering once again. Her staff whipped around and knocked the wind from his lungs, before sending him back with only one monster left to defend him.

And one attack left to take. “NGKH…HHhk…” Shit…

He couldn’t let this…He couldn’t let this end like this, he thought with panic, pulling himself up and charging.

He couldn’t! “HRRAAAAAA _AAAAAHHHHHH_ -!”

“HERE!” the trickster howled, slamming her staff against his chest. “THE FINAL BLOW! I ATTACK HEADGEAR–!”

Headgear was in attack mode he realized dully, unable to hold out any longer. “NGGAAAUUH–” And the monster was destroyed. “A _AAUUHGGHKK_ –!” And the last of his life points…

The explosion rang through the air, and the smoke of dust resulting was immense. Out in the streets, the commotion had people distancing themselves in fear, various others instead coming closer as hunches and feelings came through their bodies. They lurked in the shadows, and on rooftops, eyes wide and breath baited as they waited to see what would come of things. Back upon the field, the god merely laughed-she laughed, and she laughed, cruel and carefree. “Hahahahhhaha…hheHEN _ENEAHAAHAHHHAAAAA_! I congratulate you, boy!” she cackled, shrugging playfully as she spun her staff. “You’ve given me more of a match than any of the worthless souls in this city, but it’s over now! ’ _TURN END_ ’,” she added with a laugh, grin widening even further as the last of Alit's lifepoints plummeted in her ears. “AND END–”

She stopped herself, the smoke clearing before her and causing her to pause. The shadow within it…in the back of her mind, she could feel  _them_  stirring, her own eyes narrowing first and then widening at what was molding itself from the cloud. Before her eyes she could see the shape of a great, beastial figure leering forward, and in her mind the shape of a young man, head bowed and on his knees…it did not matter that he sat like so because of the beast. It did not matter, and as the shadow charged, she only barely threw up a fist in instinctive response, Another's words echoing and waking in her heart.

Down…around…against the cheek…

’ _Counter…blow…_ ’ they whispered, yet the words felt as fierce and loud as a hurricane's gale.

“NRAUGH–!” The punch sent her flying against the ground, and as Sun Wukong forced herself up in the aftermath, the shadow of Alit upon his knees became clearer than ever. Her attentions were drawn to it as a moth to flame, not even straying to observe the battle ready 'lion’ in the middle of the field. All she could see was him-his figure flickering in and out, red shirt trading itself for a bare chest with a set of armor, youthful face switching for the visage of a  young man from years long passed. Why couldn’t she move, she thought as the shadow groaned and choked, Alit himself barely able to open his eyes. Why…

Couldn’t…

She…

MOVE!?

“ _KrrRRRrrrrrrrrr…_ ” Across from her, Alit heard a growl.

…he could hear his heartbeat.

“ _Hhhrhhhhhh…_ ”

…he could hear his breath.

He could hear the heart and sigh of himself and another all in the same instant, and it felt as if somehow they were one and the same. As he opened his eyes he initially thought the shadow before him was Lionheart–the slouching, hulking beast of a warrior, with fangs and a mane of brilliant hair.

What it was however, was more animal than that. There was no mask–and the hair covered its body in varying amounts, the garb he wore seeming more familiar than that of Lionheart. Perhaps even similar enough to be something he once wore in fact, and that very matter left him staring with confusion. And in his mind, he thought he heard a name…

…And in reality, it spoke to him. “ _You who have awakened me,_ ” it spoke clearly, tone growling, yet strangely reverent in its sound. It's back was to him, yet in his mind's eye he could see the beast's face as clearly as the ground at his knees. “ _You whom I have waited for, for as many as five passings of Barnard…_ ” Ignoring the barian’s confusion, the lion continued with his words. “ _What is your command?_ ”

His…

Command?

On his disk, his cards still sat. In his mind, he found himself realizing that somehow despite what he had just experienced, he had lifepoints once again. More importantly however, was the single card that now sat in a monster zone, its image gleaming up to show the same visage of the lion before him.

’ _Burning Knuckler_ ’…

“…Cor… Leonis…” he read, his eyes dancing over the disk.

Though the monster began to melt into smoke, Alit found himself standing with a rush of energy, adrenaline pulling him to his feet. Over his fists appeared bandages from the creature's dust, and though he did not notice the changes, there was a shift in his hands as strength began to flood them once again.

’ _Cor Leonis_ ’, the card read. Fire, and Warrior, just as the other Burning Knucklers. ’ _This monster can be special summoned from the field spell zone_ ,’ it said, not that he knew how that could have happened to begin with. ’ _Once per turn, when your lifepoints are reduced to zero_ ,’ it continued as its monster effect, ’ _You gain lifepoints equal to the amount of sustained battle damage from the last damage step_.’

His command... ...?

Sun Wukong began to stand, and before she could speak, Alit ran. “ATTACK–!”

“NGHH-!” She barely had the time to counter–and just as before, her staff was forgotten, fists raised in an ever familiar counter strike. This time however, it did not end there. Blow after blow, their fists struck now, one from renewed strength, the other from faltering power. “HGH…NO–!”

The duo split but briefly, their feet skidding across the ground before both turned their gaze upon the the other-one practically demanding, even begging, for an explanation.

However Alit did not answer, merely bringing his fist back for the final blow as he trembled. It was his face…it was the Emperor beneath this beast, beneath this demon that he fought, and these punches, these counters, they only made that more clear to him. And yet…

“AA _AUUUGGHHH_ – HOW **DARE**  YOU–!”

And yet…

“YOU WON’T TAKE ME..!” she howled, “I WON’T LET YOU TAKE ME THERE, NOT AGAIN-!”

As the trickster god charged, so did he. “I TOLD YOU,” he roared, fist colliding against her palm for the minimal damage that Leonis’ 3200 would inflict upon her own 3000. The armor over Sun Wukong began to crack and crumble, but more importantly, so did the features of the beast. His opponent growled and snarled, and even without moving the card, he could feel the effects of his last spell filling his right hand. “I’M NOT GOING TO LOSE–!  _SPELL CARD, K-O…BURN KNOCKOUT–_! NOW GIVE THE EMPEROR  **BACK** –!”

With a crack, his fist slammed into the girl’s face, forcing them to release his own. Just as he himself had once before, her body tumbled and rolled against the ground, the smoke and wind fading just as she came to a stop.

Until there was nothing but scratched walls and dusted windows to surround them. Craters in the earth, and dented dumpster bins. Until the last of the changes Marika had gone under had faded, along with the bandages which he wore on his fists. Until…

“Hahhh….hh…hhahhhh…” He stumbled–one step…two…and three, reaching out for the girl ahead of him with blurring vision. “K…kou…tei…”

His body crashed into the ground with a thud–and in the haze of his memory and thought, despite what words could come in the next few minutes from his lips, the last thing he saw was a group of shadows rushing toward him from the sidelines.

’ _Don’t.._.’

'ALIT-! ALIT–!!’

_'dont hurt them…’_

 

* * *

 

He was the first to wake up, which was expected. It was strange–seeing hospital walls instead of the red of Barian, or even the deep violet of the merging realms. Supposedly however his injuries were such that it would have been better for him than attempting to transport him to some place in the Astral world, and frankly he was fine with that. As it were, the very idea that they could even turn to the Astral beings for that sort of thing was still a strange concept to wrap his head around. ...One he wasn't sure what to make of, for that matter.

Alit rubbed his hands where the bandages had sat not long before, and he wondered almost if some of what occurred had been a dream. He hadn’t found the card he used then–didn’t hear the voice, or see the hide of the lion. Yet there was the sensation of some other being at his side, as if following from his very shadow…

If it was a dream, it would mean he didn’t have to face Marika like that–but if it were a dream, it would also mean that the murderers did not stop with the culprit 'vanishing’ without a trace. ...Something that had, in fact, occurred. Small human girls didn’t punch the hearts out of men after all, so the fact that she had been spotted near one of the crime scenes had soon become irrelevant. In fact it was perhaps possible, the police had offered in a recent questioning, he had been seeing things.

Alit had decided to agree, if only for her sake.

Marika had also been hospitalized. Her hair was still out of the braids (who on earth had time to bother re-braiding a sleeping girl's hair?), but where his own bed table had perhaps a few flowers, it seemed Marika’s own overbearing family had left a bit more. Flowers, fruit, cards…her glasses sat near, and he himself sat in a chair beside the bed, the clock ticking away at what time he would have before her parents came to visit. It had been expected, really…

But evidently he had not been the only one to be made aware of 'Marika’s dislike for him, those few days ago- and as such, being seen at her room would not go over well.

“…I don’t know if you remember me,” he found himself murmuring, voice but a whisper in the room. “…I don’t know if you remember anything at all,” he added, thinking not only of what Marika’s possessor had done, but of the spirit he encountered so long ago within his ruins. “But… …if it means anything, it should be over now,” Alit eventually said. The fighting, the murders...all of it. “…and if you want… …I’ll leave you alone.”

The teen stood–he knew she was sleeping. She’d been sleeping since she arrived, after all. But somehow he couldn’t bring himself to stop his cowardice and confront her face to face. This wasn’t the same as anything else–this wasn’t about a crush, or a fight… …He had been his friend. His greatest friend, his trusted companion, perhaps even lover at one time. Certainly not now, and he certainly didn't know if he could bear that again at such a level but that did not change the fact that  _he had been_. She had been even, he thought as he gripped the door frame. S…she was…

“A….alit…?”

As the hoarse whisper came from behind his heart stopped, face paling while he froze in place.

“…How did you…” A deep breath, and a few frustrated blinks in an attempt to clear vision that would never improve followed, as Alit turned to stare. “You were dead…” the girl wheezed, teardrops already at the corners of her eyes as memory returned. “…I let them k…I… I killed–”

Despite the fact that his own eyes now watered, Alit found a smile slowly breaking over his face. “… _Emperor_..?”

“How can you smile,” she rasped, biting her lip. All over, her body shook- shook with tears, shook with emotion- “How can you smile when you know this, Alit…”

“It doesn’t matter any more,” Alit insisted quickly in reply, coming over to grip the bedside railing. He practically leaned onto the bed itself, reminding himself of the other's injuries lest he try to embrace them. “You’re alright–I’m alright…everything’s fine, it doesn’t matter, alright?!”

“I killed…”

“I came back!”

“But that wasn’t…”

“It doesn’t matter, I don’t care about that, emperor–!”

Her mouth hung open slightly, words caught in her throat while she trembled. “…It does though,” she whispered, swallowing to clear her throat as the shouts rose in volume. “It does matter! Because as my friend, you were someone I should never have–!” She cut herself off–however, before Alit could continue his arguments against the former ruler, he watched as the girl grabbed her throat.

“…Emperor..?” he asked, blinking  curiously.

“…My voice…” She squinted at her hands, and her friend quietly made an 'oh’ face, realization dawning upon him. Sun Wukong had mentioned holding the body until 'the spirit caught up' after all... “…And why hasn’t my vision–”

“Ahhhh- Here, here…” Shoot…they’d remembered some things of the duel it seemed, but not everything from this life then! “Try these!”

He placed the glasses over her face even as the girl frowned in confusion, and when the expression became more wide eyed and alarmed, it took all he had not to laugh. “Oh–! This…” She blinked rapidly, looking about the room. There was familiarity of sorts–after all, she hadn’t really responded to where she was in the first place, despite even blurred forms being so drastically different from the ones of the past. Now that it was crystal clear however, the 'Emperor’ was looking over their hands, feeling over their face and hair once again, and after briefly ducking under their blanket…

With the most serious of tones in the face of Alit’s bitten lip, her expression blank with absolute horror, Marika turned back to their friend. “… _What god have I dishonored_ …………………” Ah–

He couldn’t help it. A snort and a grin were both what answered the small one first, and as Alit crossed his arms, he mentally prepared himself for the story he would likely have to share once he finished splitting his sides in laughter. “Someone named 'Sun Wukong’, apparently…”

“Sun…” Marika squinted. She had more than likely been expecting someone a little more Roman, needless to say. “…Who’s 'Sun Wukong’…?”

He probably should have felt bad for laughing again–but really, after all that had happened not long ago, a spot of humor was just what they needed now. Besides…

They had a lot of catching up to do, and angered 'Monkey King’s were only a part of that.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, you’ve heard of that guy then Mizael?”

Having moved up a year or so through sheer skill within weeks of arriving, Mizael had the misfortune of attending a separate school campus alongside Durbe, these days. Specifically a  _college_ campus. Perhaps if accompanied by Nasch–who comparatively had a life of experience to help them along–it would be easier, but as it were the two who had decidedly spent the least time interacting with humans were quite literally tossed into the water.

They seemed to be doing well at any rate. Well enough that they didn’t get any phone calls from the staff at least, which was about Alit's only frame of reference as they made their way off from the home. “Of course I have!” Mizael practically pouted, apparently insulted by the question. “…It’s from a story in my homeland,” the barian grumbled, still not quite used to saying as much. Home…

“…China?”

The blond rolled their eyes. “Where else, if it was Barian you’d have heard it eons ago,” Mizael scoffed. “He was the main character in a novel published around the time of my human life,” he explained. “A former 'stone monkey’, who amassed great power and–”

“And he was a god?”

“ _OF COURSE HE WASN’T A GOD, HE WAS A DEMON_ ,” Mizael hissed, any further explanations cut short by a shout from far off.

“AAA _AAANIKIIII_ -!”

“Eh?”

The walking group traded glances, invisible shrugs abundant. Nasch and Merag had gone off on their own way of course, and Durbe for the moment had opted to join them for whatever it was–Mizael would no doubt see him in class later on, while he and Gilag saw the others soon after. No one really knew where Vector was, but Vector having  _anyone_  to call him 'Aniki’ was unlikely enough as it was–let alone the fact that the voice shouting had sounded quite like a girl’s. So then the question was, between Alit, Gilag, and Mizael...

Who? “Who’s shouting for–”

A head of blonde and red appeared on the horizon, and Alit choked. The source left few options, after all. “ME!?”

“…That’s your 'emperor’, isn’t it?” Gilag asked, Mizael appearing to decide it was no longer worth entertaining conversation with the two as he started off on his own way.

Alit nodded, though the motion was slow to come. “Uh...Yea– …well, he–she told me to keep calling her 'Marika’, and to go with the same pronouns and things as that identity did, but...”

With her hair out of the braids, even the glasses couldn’t hide the immense resemblance to her former self. It was rather surreal, in fact–as much as pants weren’t quite the Emperor’s thing back in the day, a tunic was far different from a school girl’s dress, and it made things almost awkward in his mind. “Good morning, aniki,” she greeted Alit, Gilag looking back and forth between the two as his friend stared.

“Good…good morning…” But– “...Aniki though!?” he managed to protest, Gilag as well blinking somewhat owlishly.

“I decided that since I am no longer an emperor, among other things, it should be fine,” Marika stated calmly. For someone who was no longer a ruler, she seemed to have a curious skill in carrying the tone over in her intent.

“Eh–You went from that to 'aniki?” It seemed like quite the stretch, after all, and to this his friend shrugged.

“You’re older than me now aren’t you? Or would 'niisan’ be better.”

Gilag was sputtering by this point, and Alit in the meantime went red with embarrassment. “Aniki is fine! It’s fine! It’s just–”

“What?”

“…Alit is... also fine…” he offered lamely, eyes drifting away before he noticed the girl’s knuckles. “…O…oii, what are…”

She followed the stare, as did Gilag, and in the end Marika held up her somewhat beaten knuckles. “Mn, these… …My fists aren’t the same as they used to be,” she remarked vaguely, adjusting her glasses with the words. The motion only highlighted the swollen joints, causing the others to frown. “…And when I asked my parents, they were…hesitant to help me to fix that…”

“Your parents were?” Gilag started, watching the girl nod.

“Right. They won’t let me get contacts either,” she muttered, the two briefly wondering if she’d learned about that or remembered it instead. “And I had to undo my braids before getting here…”

It wasn’t quite what Gilag had been asking, but even so. “..They’re more familiar with the you that wasn’t you, I guess,” Alit admitted, scratching his cheek. As Sun Wukong had said–Marika’s spirit, the Emperor’s spirit, had not been in possession of that body until recently. The memories might have been connected to it, but beyond that…whatever was there hadn't even been Sun Wukong themself-it had been an 'idea' of theirs, an incarnation of them without the godliness they'd reclaimed. …He pulled himself from those thoughts, focusing on the present lest he worry the other. Or at least, lest they let them forget  _injuries._ “Still, what were you punching then!?”

Marika simply shrugged, stowing her fists under her arms. “I just made a bag–it’s not that hard, I looked it up online.”

“Online?” Gilag parroted blankly.

“Just because I didn’t remember things waking up doesn’t mean I can’t remember things later–it’s just scrambled,” the girl huffed, watching as Alit brightened.

“Oh! You have those memories too then, Marika?”

“Mnn…sort of…” she admitted a little sheepishly.

“You would have to punch that bag a lot to get knuckles like those,” the tallest of the three cut in, frowning. Marika herself stopped walking alongside them, looking to the side. “How long were you beating it.. ..?”

“…I don’t know,” she admitted, closing her eyes. “However, it doesn’t matter–" they remark, letting their hands hang at their sides once more. "I’ll be doing it every day as it is, so–”

“Every day?!”

“Hah! You’re determined–!” Alit cheered, grinning. “Welcome back, Emperor~!”

“B-but Alit, if her knuckles look like this after one day–!” “ _PON_ -!!”

The group stopped their cheering and bickering, noting the morose expression now coming upon Marika’s face. If she noticed Ponta’s own attempts to lighten the mood from the ground, she did not address it. “..Mn. If it’s about that slip,” Alit started, blinking rapidly as he tried to choose his words, “Then–”

“It’s not the same any more,” she said quietly, her eyes dim. The others quieted once again, and so she continued. “…We could fight–we could trade our blows in the ring, laugh after, with bruises and bleeding noses…I missed that,” she started, “And as scrambled as everything is now, everything I can remember from 'this life’ says I can’t do those things as I am now…as you are…”

“Ah–A, As 'I am’?!” Alit protested, even though his mind told him she was right. Barians weren’t human, after all. Barians…

He had done things as a Barian that no human could ever hope to match. “I won’t be able to punch through a barrier…or lift slabs of concrete without trouble…So I want to try,” she insisted determinedly, clutching her bag tight. “Because I owe you that much! An honest match…a real match, like we should have had long before!”

The wind blew past, and for a moment, he couldn’t see the glasses, or the uniform, seeing only earrings and gem-adorned armor, a flowing cape in the place of long hair.

And Alit grinned, an expression that he at last found returning to his face more regularly in these passing days. “In that case…I look forward to it, Marika!”

“Hn! As you should!”

“ _Pon_!”

They looked down at Ponta’s cry, the shorter of them stooping down to hesitantly scratch the tanuki’s head after a brief pause. “…Ah…but this one’s kind of cute, isn’t he..?” she noted idly, the creature moving to lick her knuckles once given the chance. It wasn't a very...'Prince-like' motion, but...

“Eh…” …He supposed if she was exactly like the Emperor, it would be weird.

Gilag coughed from behind them, face tight with an almost pouting frown. “Guys…” The duo turned, and his expression tightened more, a growing aura of fearful resignation hanging over it. “Guys…if I’m late again…Merag said she’s going to make sure I actually stay for the punishment this time… …and the alternative to that…” Ah.

Facing Merag’s wrath was never a good alternative.

With awkward laughs and hurried shouts, the group would tear off, shoes clapping against the paved walk as they went.

He didn’t know how long it would be now, before the 'Barian’ world could be his home again. After all, Nasch had said it could take years, particularly with what little progress they had to make bit by bit in the other realm as the two spaces merged.

…For now, however, with this in addition to the friends he already had waiting on the school grounds, he could feel no bitterness in his heart for it.

“ _KrrrRrrrrrrrrrnnnnnn…._ ”

Though he would like to know one day where that 'growling beast’ came from.


	2. What is Known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of reclaiming oneself, certain matters of memory and identity are poured over.
> 
> Also, apparently the world doesn't have just one dimension (or something).

Re-adjusting to life as Marika was easier said than done, and they were doing their absolute best not to let that slip. Their memories were a clouded mess-a tangle of things that they had done not personally but as a body piloted by Sun Wukong, actions and settings carved into the flesh of their brain using neurons that could not be magically erased.  
  
In addition to this however, were the memories as the Emperor, from thousands of years ago. Memories of what was normal, of a language long passed, and still more. Somehow, words from back then had yet to totally bleed into regular language- Marika attributed this primarily to the language they were surrounded by. It was rare indeed that a word slipped.  
  
When it did, they were mercifully alone.  
  
The memories of the spirit were curiously the least challenging to deal with. That time had passed in a blur if anything, and when someone had finally asked what it had been like- the consequence of spending lunch with Alit's friends, certainly- they managed to answer that much before returning to their food, watching as the questioner was swatted by an annoyed friend. For the moment, the bickering was likely a mess of what was rude and what was not. And, speaking of such-  
  
"W-Well I didn't mean for it to be..! She probably doe- ahhh...he doesn't mind, right?" Yuuma asked, those who were eating with them pausing and freezing. "...What?"  
  
Marika themselves blinked up once they realized the group had gone quiet, looking from one to the other as yet another minor 'fight' broke out. "Yuuma...Marika may have been a man in their prior incarnation, but..."  
  
As Gilag trailed off, Alit coughed, looking from person to person and in particular studying Marika's face for an assist. "Well- She said keeping it this way was alright, right..? ...And that was the truth, after all!" he added, hesitantly looking back to Marika. "...Right?"  
  
Somehow, they couldn't really bring themself to entirely care about it. It was odd...but. Hmm. "...Either is...fine," they decided, blinking a little confusedly.  
  
"MMH!? Either!?" Gilag choked, ignoring Yuuma's 'yes! i was right this time!'  
  
Marika nodded. "...Truthfully... ...Both of them feel just as right," the teen confessed. "As 'Marika', it feels fine, and like things are as they should be, but..." They looked down at their food, taking a bite of rice while they looked for the words. "...The part of me that was the Emperor feels just as strongly. So hearing both..."  
  
"Oh- so...it's the one that feels like you, each time?" Yuuma guessed, looking only to the blond for their input.  
  
They seemed to give it some thought, before eventually smiling. "Mnnh...Right!" they decided, nodding a little more confidently. "...It feels that way at least."  
  
"AH!! Then, which one feels right right now?" he excitedly questioned, the others sputtering.  
  
"H-He-Hey, Yuuma..!!" "Oii, Yuuma give some room first..!!" Ah...  
  
It was such a scene that they could only really laugh, a quiet and somewhat 'girlish' chuckle that went unheard passing their lips. "W-Well...if something feels wrong, I'll just let you know...how's that?"  
  
To that, the barians with them both sighed in relief, as Yuuma simply cheered. "Yosh-! Got it!" he beamed, nodding. "Anyway!! I was saying-"  
  
"That question is still rude, Yuuma..." Gilag groaned, as the boy tried to head back to the topic of memories.  
  
"I mean, the question's out there now I guess," Alit muttered, scratching his cheek. "But..."  
  
Ah... Well. Marika frowned, but sighed, chewing their lip. "Well...there's certain things that stand out, since they cross over...for some things, such as where we are, it's pretty clear because it's 'current', but for certain points from past memory, especially when 'I' was younger, it's harder..."   
  
As Marika trailed off, the others with them leaned in, a bit curious themselves. "...'Crossover'?" Kotori in particular asked, the girl having focused on simply eating while the others bickered earlier.   
  
"Mnh. Things that I heard about as a spirit, as well as...what Sun Wukong heard, I suppose," they admitted, continuing. "Things like...how to play duel monsters, or what year it is...when the four dimensions became known..."  
  
That last one got a variety of reactions. Yuuma, for one, just beamed. "OH!! So you know lots then..!" he laughed, while the barians started to abruptly choke. "I don't even remember that last one...I never get to go on those field trips anyway, so-"  
  
"AHH-"  
  
"H-HOLD ON..!!"  
  
Kotori, Marika, and Yuuma each turned, and finally the others cleared their throats. "D-Dimensions!?" Gilag sputtered, rasping. Ponta, poking out from a nap in his school bag, seemed to frown-as if the matter was an obvious one. "S...Since when were there four!?"  
  
"Right!" Alit protested. "Obviously, Barian and Astral were two other ones once, but a fourth!?"  
  
It was the other's turn to blink, with a range of confused expressions in place. "...Hahhhh?" Yuuma started first, tilting his head. "...We're not talking about those two, that's just silly..."  
  
Kotori was more gentle about it. "Mnnh...Astral and Barian are more separate worlds, aren't they? The four dimensions are all just like ours, with humans..! ....Though...do you both really not know..?"  
  
"Mnh...of course..." As focus moved back to Marika again, it seemed the blond had answers this time. "...If all of the Barians died before the 'split'..."  
  
"S-Split..!?" "Since when were there four dimensions..!?"  
  
Feeling a touch overwhelmed, Marika slowly turned to the others. After all- "Everyone knows there are four dimensions..." Yuuma was muttering, half pouting, "It's on so many tests, even-"  
  
"Tests you don't pay attention to," Kotori hummed, her friend protesting in reply. Someone would have to fix this though, and she chewed her lip. "Mnnh...if you two didn't know, then the others probably don't..."  
  
"Ah-Even Shark!?"  
  
That drew some worthy pause. Shark, unlike the others-rather, Shark and Rio both-had memories of being human after all. Memories of classes, of the information within...  
  
"Ahhh...right, Ryoga should know, shouldn't he..."  
  
For all that they were determining this, Gilag and Alit were both getting rather fed up. "Mnnhhh...this just feels more and more like we're in the dark..."  
  
"Can't one of you explain already..?"  
  
Another series of traded looks. And finally, Marika sighed. "...Mnh...I guess I can cover a little bit-but if your friends really don't know, then this might be something all of you should get together on," she pointed out. "The point is though...about 100 years ago-long after I 'died', and after all of you died, the human world was split into four dimensions.  
  
"...That moment caused the 'Dimensional Wars'-the reason Heartland City exists."  
  
It was determined, after a few moments, that it would indeed be best to speak with Nasch and Merag about the matter-preferably as a full group. But something about the mention of such 'Dimensional Wars' caused a slight shudder to crawl through Alit's spine, and for the life of him, he could not shake it off.


End file.
